Oh shit, what an inspiration. Two AI sex dolls of opposite gender meeting for some one-on-one... Thanks for providing some fun imagination.***

Taking the Tango with AAA Batteries

'Made in China'(of course, trade tariff free)Free sex, whenever, however, and so fine!

Flip the switch and watch for a fun time.

She was plastic and latexHe was latex and plasticShe was moistHe was slipperysmiles and apparatus...

They both were used hard by those weak of mindand thenset asidewhere they could ponder the universe, the penis, the vagina, strawberries, candles, and clay.

It was only through luck that the two would meet.

Oh, it was strangeShe sat on the floor where her 'lover' finished, dropped, and went to sleepHe was handcuffed to a bed where his 'lover' dropped over dead, smothering the other loverin his sleep.

The two looked at each other with electronic senses, dulling down the electric staticand both looked pleased.

"Hi sexy, wanna fuck?" He said with a practiced seductive tone

"Oh, my, you're so big!" She said with a wink

Back and forth, forth and back, the two were immobile as their motor functions were in sleep mode

SoFor many years, while their 'lovers' rotted dead until even the flies had nothing else to eatthe two engaged in vocal sex to fill an artificial needuntil...one day,just before their battery life ceasedshe asked the big question, "Why are we here, and for what really?"he answered with what he knew to be the truth, "I think therefore I am..."and with a soft humming the two new lifeforms died, alone in a room, warranty expired...unless you believe their company maker decree,'Customer satisfaction, guaranteed'

It would be interesting to see the percentage of people who actually read books now versus people who actually read books before television, and especially, the smart phones/computers/ technical shit.

I wonder? Would a child be happy to sit and read a book such as, 'Moby Dick'? Or, would they be bored out of their mind; instead desiring tweets, texts, youtube, emoji's and all that other shit? Of course, some children exist that prefer some good books but thinking that compared to the power of video games and electronic stimulation, they are the rare ones.

Humans are adaptable to their environment. That is easy to show. One century they wear corsets and bloomers with sheared beaver hats and spectacles. The next they cut off dicks and say they are women. Wonderful! Fucked up, but wonderful.

Of course, reading is reading. And what a joy it is to be able to decipher scribbled lines of whatever language a person chooses to understand.

I personally love to read humans as they are a scribbled mess of lines in perpetual convulsions.**

Books

Lives are stories written and written they are booksBooks are many, so many volumes, so many libraries, so many, many... periods, comma's, paragraphs, rewrites, proofs...

BeginningsEndingsBindersPage marks

If a books dies or is burned, does it mean it did not exist?(taken from the philosophy of the tree in the forest falling)A homeA lifeA book...

All is recorded with so many offshootsSo many variablesitisgood.

Never the sameNever forgottenAnd God smiles as the inkwell joins with the pen.

Send them a postcard and ask to be put on the mailing list. They'll send catalogs from time to time.

I get large orders from them, for two reasons: they deal in returns and overstocks, so the prices are really low*, and--no matter how many you order, you pay only a single $3.50 shipping charge. Theoretically, you could have ten pallets of books arrive at your door for $3.50 in shipping. No credit card sales this way; it's another savings.

They have an online outlet where you can buy with cc, but it costs more.

So, once or twice a year I'll buy upwards of a dozen at a time, and that keeps me booked up.

* I avoid the titles with a blue star next to them; the markdown isn't much better than a lot of other outlets.

"Yeah. I'll show you a great tip... Tip of my spear you bloviating, pompous..."

Now now parasite. Just cuz you were staked outside in the burning sun doesn't mean you have to be an idiot.

"Oh yeah? Says who? You? You're nothing more than a ..."

Back to the stakes parasite. I see the stink bugs and ants are hungry.*

As to books. I own over 40,000 comic books (great literature with pics) Plus, being a bit eccentric, I bought an entire library of books from the Army base in Anchorage. Literally, I have tons of books with genres of everything. 'Real' books are muuuch better (in my opinion) than the ebooks.

Thanks for the inspiration and source of future books***

How many books can it take to fill a mind?To the brim and overflowingwithout the reader forgettingalmost as if not knowing?

Some people only read technical journalsor scienceSome people only read menu'sSome people do not know how to readSoSome doSome don'tSomething to ponder aboutand think.

Again, for a voracious reader, how many books can be consumedprocessedstoredrememberedrepeat?

The mind, a biological computer is very completeyet lacking in storage retrieval ...trying to remember the first book I ever readwhen I was old enough to put the letters to the wordand thinking it was about a dogormaybe, a tree?

What a night tonight! Mars on Fire, Moon getting eaten by the Earth, smoke from forest fires, crickets, warmth...and of courseinspirational.

*

Battle of the Stars

Look over there, way over there, there over the horizons after the horizonCan you see?Stand on tippy toes while laying prone in bed, deep, deep, deeeeep,asleep.

Oh, yes, it is there, those horizons limited in view to those awakeEyes of flesh could never seek thus never seeor feelyet the mind knows, the soul feels,can you see?

Tonight, a battle takes a circular life, a generation of energy where even the dead can feeland makefor only a moment it takesto look over there, way over there, there over the horizons after the horizonso much more beauty than looking up at the stars awakefor in your body, your mind, your soul, the star dust from past battlescome to Life!

it was a large factory. it was an abandoned factory yet in good condition with large steel beams and many large rooms. then, the people came, it struggled into life. it was a Russian factory.*oil in the dance with the wick. waiting for the lamp to glimmer and flame. reaching out and lighting what some say is ceremony and sight, only, the illusion/delusion for what they know not in site.**sitting with focus, a moon over the shoulder laughing. thoughts laser thin***

when chimed there comes a bell tollingrolling call to all imposedabove the tides and tiedsparks erodingthis they calltime

blankets covered what cannot be hidas light calls from the lampa torch some carry where oily ambitions come to revealthis they calltime

bones tremblehowling wildocean calm in playfor in the waves in the cravingsthis they calltime

The lips were in position of neither a sneer or curl of anger. Nor, were they full of passion or smile. His lips were slightly trembling with the recent moment of battle.

Specks of blood cast upon the warriors face made it hard to tell if his skin color was brown, black, white, or yellow. His beard knotted with the braid of his clan and his red hair matched the blood on his hands, hands holding a battle axe slathered in human fat and gore.

"Korlan, it was good, no?" Another warrior, partner and friend of Korlan going by the name Gon spoke as he wipe his lips free from battle.

Breathing softly, Korlan's heart softened and returned to a rhythm to match the mood. The monster of a man answered. "No. It is not good. This battle was not needed. Too many lost for nothing. For these..." And in a sudden burst of energy, raised his axe in both hands; bringing down the blade to cleave the head of his enemy..." Sonetang.

The man he just removed the final bits of life from were the Sonetang clan. A clan of devious people who only sought power and domination over others. Anyone who was not of their clan were preyed upon. It just so happened that the clan they had decided to battle against were allied with Korlan's clan.

D'rillgon Clan, the clan of cave beasts and sky tremblers... This was Korlan's clan, and they were afraid of nothing or anything either of this world or the next. The Sonetang made a deadly mistake of raiding and killing their allies. As a result, there was no mercy and no life spared that sported Sonetang blood.

Korlan bathed the body in the cool springs interspersed with boiling water infused with rose petals. The currents of hot and cold soothed his muscles recently tested in the weeks of constant battle.

"Ahh... This is better than war. Woman. You there. Bring me my drink." Korlan had authority in his voice as he ordered the slave to bring him a drink made from the grain of those many fields covered in crops located below this cave. Slaves were property gained from past battles and this slave was a creature of beauty, brains, and defiance.

"You should get the drink yourself...beast. And you should use more ceoral oil to rid yourself of..." but before she could finish her insult, her master reached out from the water, or, more like leaped half-way out and grabbed her around her waist. His naked body covered in muscle and tone.

"Woman! Your insults only excite me." He then received a bite on his lips from the defiant woman, a woman who then started to laugh.

"Ha! Mighty warrior. Not so strong now." And she grabbed his beard; pulling him roughly forward and kissed him deeply.

Blood from his torn lip flowed as it mixed with the passion of the two locked in an embrace of erotica and motion. Soon there was a new sound, one of moaning and excitement. The bath and drink forgotten and the sweet smell of rose petals and ceoral oil to fill the room.

crickets rub the leg of Summerfrost calls for FallWinter laughing as it talks in its sleepSpring stored well as the ground is laden

tuned so fine with hands extendedfillingfillingin graspa worldspinningfeelingseeingbeingonewith the past, presentcaring less for a futuretimefrozen as if ifmeaningless when compared to a beating hearta happy doga sunset reda moon glowingstars singingbirds busy beingfish waiting to be caughtstories to be writtenand sososomuch.

readers form instant thoughts and opinions when reading anything from advertising to educational books. Interesting how the mind works. speed readers pick and choose the words as they cruise through whatever it is they read. slow readers or readers just learning to read think more on how to decipher the letters and make it a word than trying to understand the word read.

the following is some fun I enjoy. words in a soup mix. words jumbled and making a reader think and thus picture in their mind just what it is they are reading.***

Crockery of the Bent Branch

Silken pantiesMoistHoney and chocolate

Canned tunawormsspoiled lettuce

Beach sand and latexthongbulging ball sack

Moldy breadsodden newspaper

and if by chance the moon should falla jumbled messa catch of catfish and rye

Watched a young girl today at the Raspberry Festival. It was an interesting study as sitting next to her was her younger brother.

She softly cradled her doll and treated it in every way as if she were older and the doll was truly her 'baby'. Meanwhile, her brother was playing with a toy car and making all the 'vroom vroom' sounds.

Nowadays, the moments in the pc world of stupid shit would label such a statement of truth as sexist. That boys could play with dolls in the same way and girls play with toy cars the same way... and I say... bullshit.

Males can be full of compassion but are males. They have dicks, muscles, and basically an IQ geared toward getting back into the womb. Females can mechanically gifted and act just like a male, but the key words are 'act like'.

With billions of people on this planet, there are some exceptions but the norm and natural is like what I witnessed today.

Ever wonder why babies are born to have physical similarities to their fathers? In nature, the males would destroy offspring not of their own. Male lions taking over a pride do such.

Now, why write such? The answer is because today was just a reinforcement of observation and learning. Also, to completely contradict myself because when it comes to writing... All are male, female, alien, alive, dead... As a writer I can rock a baby and let it suckle from my milk laden breast. All writers can write as if old, young, or anything imagined. Old authors can be young. Young can be old. This is good.

So. Reality is reality. Writing though can be absolutely anything at all. My hypothesis is that humans embrace writing not only for educational and entertainment purposes, but also for the freedom to choose and be whatever it is they choose. Imagination is a very important part of the human condition.

And thus, a little girl and boy inspired me today with the simple act of reality in a world full of imagination.***

Boys will be boysGirls will be girlsand all else will be the same

So

ginger and spice and everything nice?orpuppy dog tales?

given the freedom to do as one willswithout the dangers of what actually is reala false world of secureprisons the fate of the world

It is then, we have what is reality, what is real,and the imagination to start again to have the freedom to do as one willswithout the dangers of what actually is reala false world of secureonce again imprisoning a world.

Nah... it's too fucking hot... 111 degree's crossing the river. And at the river I saw a snowflake rise up out of the river... and that's an illusion... Nah parasite, you're off frolicking with dolphins next to an iceberg. So, you're just a heat illusion and... WOW! An army of Morial warriors are marching to do battle in the caves!

Food chain. A simple term to title the constant struggle for creatures to consume other biologic's in the quest for sustainability.

Algae, plankton, fish, birds, humans... A variety indeed of so many creatures dependent on so many creatures.

Humans do and have eaten other humans. Ants eat ants. Birds eat birds. An epic smorgasbord of consume and be consumed.

Yesterday, a small hawk that preys on small prey to include small birds watched me while I watched him sit on an electric wire...hunting. My placement of bird feeders makes it hard on such a hawk whereas if I had placed them in the open, there would be great opportunity for him. But, there are always those opportunities for such a tenacious hunter.

Anyway, the hawk gave me a gift as it took flight; dropping a beautiful feather that spiraled and scattered four dimensions as it traveled.

Normally I grab them out of the air before hitting the ground but this feather needed to complete the chain, binding the sky to the ground, and now it is as it should be... inspirational indeed.***

Walking the surface of water rests the balance of feet and defeatLife it is said , where there isbeginningend

At the surface there is up, up to where the clouds never endAt the surface there is down, down below where what can not be seen and never endsBalance againstaticcalmuntil the waters roiland then?

A babies cry be it bird, beast, or manA fish hatched to swim the surfaceA insect formed to beA plant sproutingall to try the balance of travel in a waking worldin a way, trying to understand.

And why?Why try?Why be?Maybe because the balance needed is needed as it is hard to stand?

i have journeyed high above the clouds, traveled far, far, far below the landsGoing full circle to places beyond imaginationhearingfeelingseeingbeinglearningteachingas to what i am is, it is of no importance... a body, thought, existence consistingof Wind.

(the parasite tried to change the conversation so it said) "I have the perfect inspirational word for tonight... FART!"

Sigh. Still doesn't change the fact you ate my damn pie. But, inspiration has to come from somewhere so, fart it is.

(beaming with success, the parasite asked) "Can I have more pie now?"

Nope. All gone.

"Shit."***

As inspired from the parasites word-of-the day.

*

Aeration of Air

Gasping at the logic of past combinationsStruggling to breath some sense of the matterIn touch with the feel of flightTo leave the scene of the accidentonlystuck in social traffic

Pull the finger as if the joke made the body wholeFalling short as lungs gasp for sympathy with eyes watering with tearsand wonderingdid they leave some part of themselves behind that had a soiled sensation?

Children laugh in delight as they knowoh they know the power of the bowel filled with similar balloon levitation squealing and howling and yes...releasing the timing for the most opportune cryof "WHY!"\of course all being stuck inside an airtight roomorcaror crowded movie theater

It can be said sulfur and fermenting organic mealscan truly bring a form of(albeit smelly)family bondingas they all try to scatter...

speaking about laughter... just read a news bit about California passing a bill and now await Gov. Moonbeam to sign it into law. The laughter? The bill makes it illegal for eateries to have any drink offering to children that are not water or milk. Man, just like the 'official' publishing world for the masses of unrecognized authors, the elitists of Kalifornication now want straws banned, guns banned, soda banned, common sense banned, freedom banned. To California politicians trying to 'control' the lives of people I say, fuck you! To the people who vote and allow their freedoms to be stripped clean and fucked up laws put into place to destroy freedom, I wish/hope/desire that you get all the shit in the world you deserve and keep your views, and bodies far, far way from something like me.

And so it is. Living in a world where social media is a haven for cowards to hide behind the shield of coward and yet have the power to try and 'conquer and divide' others of other thoughts and beliefs.

The power of the written word is indeed powerful. We all live in a world of power and control. Facebook controls. Google controls. Many institutions and companies control. Religions control. For something such as what now types this... nothing of this world can even come close to controlling, and thus, the inspiration.

***

You want me to bow, cower and accept?Fuck you!They want you to be a drone, a slave, a member, a participant?Go ahead!

Laws. Rules. Covenants. Made by whom and for what?Control?Safety?Need?Maybe to satisfy the ego of those so inclined?

Resist with passivityPassive aggressionI say, say what you want and thinkthough in certain company ]just leave.

Peace is a concept this world cannot acceptWar makes all equal and is easy to feel and understand the painRespect? Ah, there is a novel concept, and what does respect bring?Weakness?Loss?Self awareness(silence)and there the truth lays bare.

To remain silent while they take away your rightsTo remain silent while they killed the Gypsies, handicapped, political opponents, Jews...Silent to the pain and rage of othersSilent in the dark while they rob and rape your neighborSilence of sound?

What sound then?The sound of anger?The sound of laughter?To me, this world, your world (not mine) It allALLsoundsthe same...

On one side of the road, a grouse tried to think I couldn't see what it was. Then, a more interesting scene. A skunk was pulling grass into a culvert to build a nest. Not a bad idea though when the rains come, a drain culvert is probably not the best place to be.

A day to be!***

Skunk Drain

Black and white with a gray outletIndustrious little bastard...

Tugging and pulling and then ass backwards entersthe hole.

Outside whiteInside blackno odor though, clean as a rock

Made me smile, it didwondering if I'll see the industrious bastardafter the next heavy rain.

It's no secret writer can very easily offend a reader of their work. Just this thread I've been playing with has probably had something written in it that offended some creature out there.

It's interesting how one reader could laugh at a piece of writing while others would do something other such as cry, get angry, get offended, fall asleep... Suppose that is what makes the world interesting; everyone choosing what to be.

What to be? At birth, the decisions on what to choose start as quickly as the lungs breath in air for the first time. Liking mashed peas, hating mashed peas, liking this or that, hating this or that...

I love that people make choice and are firm in their convictions. It bring such as what I am great humor to see ladies join a club and wear red hats while around here, all the men have short hair, a baseball cap, drink beer and favor 4x4 pickup trucks.

Today, I read a headline: New safe sex guide says medical term ‘vagina’ could trigger trans people, replaces with ‘front hole’ Oh, it made me laugh!

Humans are indeed a wonderful source of humor. Offended by the word 'vagina'? How about twat or pussy? But 'front hole'?'Man oh man, that is f-u-c-k-i-n-g hilarious!

Point of this bit of offensive writing? The point is, this world is offensive. People. Animals. Insects. Plants. Weather. The whole damn world is offensive, so if it's offensive it is good that we can have the freedom to write about it. And, must state. Inspirational!***

Front hole

Back door wide openIn between the front and backa wall, a hole, an in, an outbushdicktwat

For those so easily offended by a world foundthe best thing thenis to getlost.